Page 59 of Of Kings and Thieves

That explained why Col wouldn’t look at me, to keep me out of their minds, literally. “Col said Killian was playing a part.”

Scarlet snorted. “Yes, he was playing a part, just as he always does.”

“You don’t trust him?”

She tucked a piece of hair into her braid. “No, I trust him, but I don’t like him. Killian’s a cold, unfeeling bastard.”

“Killian helped me,” I whispered guiltily. I had been quick to doubt him.

Scarlet rolled her shoulders stiffly, the only sign of her devastating injuries other than the bloodstains on her clothes. “Magnus told me about that. As you have experienced firsthand, Killian is loyal to Col, and by extension the rest of us.”

“The rest of us?”

With a glance toward the road, Scarlet motioned for me to follow her. “You’ll see. There are some people you need to meet.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Once, we were called the Ironguard,” Scarlet said. “Now we are the Wanderers.”

I stood with the red-haired warrior, facing three strangers. Scarlet and I had ridden hard to a woodland south of the city. We passed hovels and dilapidated homes, but many families lived with no shelter at all, even as a light snow began to fall. They were starving and barely clothed. Scarlet told me they had not lived like this when Col’s father was king; then, the people had prospered and no one had gone hungry, for there was work and food aplenty. But since The Harrow had taken over, everything had changed.

We had just entered the trees when the newcomers stepped out of the lengthening shadows. “He surrendered,” Scarlet had said to them, her voice cracking. A stunned silence ensued, and without another word, she and I followed them to a small fire and three tents deep in the forest.

Only after a tall, slender man began stoking the fire and adding logs to it did anyone speak. The logs crackled and popped, and the fire illuminated the man tending it.

A thrum of pain from Col echoed through our bond, and my heart, so battered these days, skipped several beats. Are you okay?

I’m fine.

You promised you wouldn’t lie to me.

I’m not. I wasn’t fine earlier but now I am. They’re leaving me alone for now. Are you with the others?

Yes.

Trust them.

The bond went silent, and I struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to overwhelm me.

“What happened?” asked the man tending the fire. He wasn’t a man, I realized, but an elf. With long brown hair and long ears ending in delicate points. Two short swords were strapped to his back, along with a bow and quiver of arrows. He returned my gaze, and his green eyes seemed to shine with a light of their own. I had only seen one or two elves in my entire life. They weren’t often found outside of the kingdom of Glimmerdale.

Scarlet gave them a brief account of the last two days, including my status as Col’s love. I tried not to blush when their stares turned to me, studying me with interest. When she finished, she introduced me officially, though she had already included me in her story. “The elf there is Kolvar,” she said, “one who would rather have his nose lost in a book than his hand on a sword or bow.”

“And it’s a good thing too,” Kolvar said smoothly. “Otherwise, most of the knowledge of this kingdom would have already been lost. Welcome, Samara.”

The elves were distant kin to the lost Fae, and Kolvar looked like the other elves I’d seen, tall but not as broad as Col or the other man staring menacingly at me.

“The big brooding guy there is called Melion,” Scarlet continued, pointing to the staring man, who had dark hair that fell over his eyes and a long scar running across his face. He fidgeted with something on his right hand, caught me looking, and dropped his hands. But not before I saw a ring. It caught the light of the fire, gold with a glittering purple gemstone.

“Melion is a shape-shifter,” Scarlet explained, bringing a scowl to the man’s face, making him look even more threatening. But he didn’t speak to me.

“And over there is Sylvius, our bard,” said Scarlet.

Silvius took my hand and kissed it. He was of medium build, with striking green eyes, a dusting of freckles over his slightly upturned nose, and wavy brown hair tied back with a leather band. “A pleasure, my lady.”

“Watch out for him,” Scarlet said with a disapproving noise. “He swears there’s no Fae blood in his veins, but I’ve observed him more than once talk his way out of a tight spot using that silver tongue of his.”

Sylvius feigned shock. “My tongue has gotten me out of many interesting situations,” he said, his double meaning clear. “I’m talented that way.”

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